From My Heart Down to My Legs
by AnimeSiren
Summary: "You know we're different," Clint leans so that his arms are gripping the table on either side of Darcy "I can safely say that you're the only girl I've willingly watched reality TV for. I let you wake me up to go to dive diners for chocolate chip pancakes at obnoxious hours. I look forward to seeing you first thing after I wake up. I'm not lying to you when I tell you I love you."


**From My Heart Down to My Legs**

_**Enjoy**_

Notes: This has way more feels than I initially anticipated. However, it turns out that Darcy's sarcasm and I have become best friends.

**X-_X-_X**

"Oh my baby Jesus, you're such a toddler," Darcy throws her hands, and keeps them there a moment longer for emphasis.

"Really," Clint shoots her a _look_. "If the Hulk drops an unconscious Iron Man on you, I want to see if you manage to have patience all the time."

"If the Hulk looks like he's about to drop Iron Man on me I plan on _rolling out of the way_."

Clint was ready to pull his hair out. He couldn't have rolled out of the way. They'd been over this. Clint's gear had gotten caught, and when push came to shove he'd ended up with half an unconscious Iron Man on top of him (There were jokes being made by the junior agents, Clint absolutely was sure of it) and a broken leg from when he'd tried to protect his bow from the brunt of the billionaire's impact.

Tony had regained consciousness and had been delighted that the suit hadn't crushed Hawkeye like "a modern day Giles Corey, with more swag."

Anyway.

"Look," Clint waved a crutch at the door "Can you just be somewhat helpful and open the damn door."

Darcy pushed herself up on her elbows and heaved a put upon sigh. "It's a good thing that the boss man is calling you in for a debrief, buttercup, because if we were bumping uglies right now I would cockblock the shit out of you. No big-O, and I mean orgasm not the cartoon."

Clint put a hand to his face and made himself count breaths like he was prepping for a long shot. Sometimes, _sometimes_, his girlfriend was really freaking annoying. Perpetual energy and a penchant for being curmudgeonly when put upon were generally Darcy's only bad properties. In Clint's opinion, that is. Agent Coulson generally lamented the fact that Darcy occasionally put up pictures of the classified R&D labs on facebook simply because she thought they were hiding information about area 51.

Darcy swung her feet over the bed and took her time walking over to the door. She opened just wide enough that Clint could hobble sideways out and into the hall.

"Gee, thanks," Clint said dryly.

Darcy's expression of grievance wavered and she ended up grinning at him. She leaned up high enough that she could kiss him on the tip of his nose with a loud smack. "Be back later?"

"Yeah," and Clint felt all the steam melt out of him. "Promise."

"Good," and Darcy practically beamed when she shut the door behind him.

_Yeah_, Clint reflected, _Relationships are all right_.

X-_X-_X

A couple days later Darcy woke up by herself in bed. She furrowed her eyebrows, she knew for a fact that she had fallen asleep wrapped around some grade A hunk of man. Deciding this turn of events was just _not cool, dude_ she nabbed her cell phone from her nightstand, squinting when she tried looking at the screen.

**To: Clint**

**07:23 EST**

_I thought u knew that a requirement of this relationship was that I have some1 2 cuddle in the morn._

**From: Clint**

**07:27 EST**

_You can manage to write out 'requirement' but can't take the time to type 'you'?_

**To: Clint**

**07:28 EST**

_I find ur use of proper punctuation sacriligeous. _

**From: Clint**

**07:30 EST**

_Learn to use autocorrect, princess. It's s-a-c-r-i-l-i-g-i-o-u-s._

**To: Clint**

**07:31 EST**

_Omg whatever old man.  
Are u within cuddling distance or not?_

**From: Clint**

**07:33 EST**

_Sparring with Nat in the gym._

Darcy's thumb paused on her reply. She was awake enough that she had managed to stop squinting, but had so far only made it as far as sitting up against the headboard. The gym was three floors down in Stark Tower, and in Darcy's opinion _so_ not worth it, but she got that Clint needed that sort of thing considering his superhero status.

And, well, the biceps. His biceps. His biceps that Darcy took _gratuitous_ advantage of.

**To: Clint**

**07:35 EST**

_Cool story bro, last I knew you had a gimp leg_

**To: Clint**

**07:35 EST**

_And u have enough time during sparring to txt? Maybe this is y u lose a lot_

**From: Clint**

**07:37 EST**

_Just working on blocks. DON'T txt Coulson._

_And was on break, finished now. Need phone at all times for Avenger reasons. Read your SHIELD manual. Back in twenty._

Darcy tossed her phone back onto her nightstand and burrowed back down into her covers. Dozing off for twenty minutes before her hot, sweaty, superhero boyfriend came back up to dazzle her with his manly presence? Darcy figured she could handle that.

Morning accomplished? Check.

Just over twenty minutes later Darcy felt something prick her neck. She sat up with a start, her eyes flashing open. Something hard connected with her head.

"Darcy," a voice whined.

Darcy shook herself, rubbing her head. It was Clint. Sweaty and looking distinctly not pleased, rubbing his jaw.

"What'd you do that for?" Darcy hadn't even woke up when he came in, though she expected that normally, but she thought she'd at least hear the crutches now.

"Well, it's not sexy when your response causes fractures."

Darcy blew hair out of her face and eyed her boyfriend. "I don't mind a nip or two when awake, Agent Barton. When asleep, not so much."

Clint just rolled his eyes and moved to sit next to her against the headboard. His bum leg lay extended but he bent the other so that he could slouch nearer to her.

"Besides," Darcy yawned slumping sideways into her boyfriend "I was never Team Edward."

"Does that mean you were Team Jacob?"

"Shush, you're too old to know such things."

Clint laughed. "I'll show you too old."

Darcy sighed after she'd been yanked flat, Clint leaning over her. She crossed her arms and glared "You need to work on that."

"On what?" Clint was leaning on his arms, which made Darcy feel sore just looking at. He was very obviously keeping his weight off his leg.

"On your man mojo," Darcy gestured vaguely with a hand. "You're too predictable, I think it might be the soldier thing, you know? Either that or robot cloning has finally happened. But I really thought Tony was joking about that."

Clint leaned forward and shut his girlfriend up by kissing her. Sometimes a person had to go with what was most effective. He nipped at her lower lip in defiance.

"You're sweaty," Darcy muttered against his mouth.

"And you have morning breath but you don't see me complaining, sweetheart. Buck up."

Darcy groaned, and not in pleasure. "Don't soldier me. I don't conform with the man, you know."

Clint laughed and kissed his way down her throat. "I will never accuse you of conforming with anything," he assured her.

Darcy sighed and let her head relax back against her pillow. It was nice to have Clint like this, even if he was sweaty from sparring. To have his solid weight pressed down against her, his arms caging her. Darcy though that it was a pretty reassuring thing. The whole experience had a dazzling grounding effect.

Darcy leaned up and wrapped her arms around Clint's neck. She kissed him once, hard, and then slipped her hands down and underneath his t-shirt. Clint had a fantastic abdomen. When it got boring at work and Coulson was out Darcy took pleasure in putting her feet up and daydreaming about this abdomen.

Clint sat up and tugged his shirt off, which Darcy thought was quite a feat considering the way he had to lean to keep weight off his leg as he did so. When Clint leaned back down it was to bury his head in the crux of her neck. He sucked on her exposed collarbone and let his own hands wander. Darcy was warm and sleep lethargic and it made him want to gather her up and never let her go.

Darcy made an appreciative noise against the top of Clint's head. It encouraged him to shimmy Darcy's shirt up and attach his mouth to a much more rewarding prize. He was gratified when he heard his girlfriend make a quiet mewling noise and press up against him. Smiling, he brought a hand up to tease at Darcy's chest while he kissed his way down her stomach.

"Clint," Darcy breathed out. It meant so much, that small word. His name on her lips. It was important. This trust that Darcy had in him was sometimes unfathomable.

"I'm going to take care of you, babe, don't you worry."

Clint dropped a hand to the waist band on her sleep shorts and pushed his thumb downward, massaging the soft skin of her hip. Darcy wound a hand into his hair and pulled his head up, sharp. She kissed him, softer than she intended, and dropped her hands to the strings of his workout pants, making her intention known.

"Yeah," Clint plants his good knee and leans on his side to firmly tug her shirt up and off. In a swift movement he has their positions reversed. He pulls Darcy firmly down on top of himself; planting his hands on her hips he grinds himself up against her. He relaxes now that he's not supporting his injured limb.

The flip made Darcy's head spin a little bit, not that she wasn't used to that. When you bedded the master marksman himself sometimes you had to get used to the gymnastics and just go along for the ride. She keened when she felt Clint against her, hard against her stomach.

Clint was murmuring a litany of praises against her mouth, and Darcy could do little more than pant back. Clint's hands were everywhere on her body, quick and efficient, soft and hard. Darcy made up her mind and half crouched while she insistently tugged on Clint's sweats. She had to be a bit creative about getting the sweats down and off his cast, but managed to do it just fine.

"Impatient much?" Clint asked with a smirk. His erection was flush against his stomach though, leaking, so Darcy was sure she wasn't the only one eager to proceed.

"You tell me I talk too much during sex and here you are protesting when I'm trying to rock your world. Not cool dude, you're going to have a time-out in the Jersey Shore house soon if you don't behave."

"Ooh, punishment? Lewis you devil you."

Clint's shit eating grin disappeared as if he'd been slapped a moment later. Darcy had stood, and she'd kicked her shorts and underwear off in one swift movement. When she crawled back up on Clint's lap, knees on either side of his waist she was the one that was able to grin, smug.

"Baby, I gotta tell you;" Clint trailed a hand from the small of her back to the inside of her thigh "You're gorgeous."

Darcy didn't doubt the sentiment. Clint was good to her, she knew this, and she was still astounded that she was living in Stark Tower, dating the Avenger known as Hawkeye, and getting the chance to live a life she never knew she had the right to have. Darcy was copacetic.

Clint's hand dipped lower and all at once he was rubbing a thumb on her clit and teasing a finger up and inside of her. Darcy let out a low moan and rolled her hips forward. A moment later she'd set a jerky half rhythm, and was letting Clint smirk up at her the way he did. She wasn't sure what was showing on her face, but she didn't really care.

"God, baby…"Clint groaned and leaned up, hooking an arm around her back. He forced their bodies even closer together, and slipped his hand from between her legs.

Darcy keened. "No fair, Barton."

Clint scoffed from where he was mouthing against a breast, his tongue flicking back and forth over one of Darcy's erect nubs. "All's fair, princess."

Darcy tried to be witty back, but had to deal with the problem of her synapses getting more and more fried. She managed a grunt.

Trying to even the playing field she hooked a hand around the base of Clint's cock and began to jerk upwards lazily. She couldn't help but be pleased when his ministrations stuttered and he had to rest his sweat slicked forehead against her shoulder for a minute. Darcy swept a hand down the smooth skin of his back.

"Okay, okay I get it," he panted. Using another gymnastic move he changed Darcy's position, his hands steadying her hips. Clint paused just long enough to look up at Darcy, her hair a fantastic mess across the pale skin of her shoulders. He kissed her briefly, fiercely, and reached for the nightstand.

His hand came back empty.

_What?_ "What?"

Darcy swatted him aside and reached under the corner of the mattress. She slapped the packet against his chest. "Tony was stealing our condoms. Had to hide them for the sake of our sex life."

"Tony Stark, who has plenty of minions on his payroll, who could probably own a rubber refining plant, was stealing _condoms_?"

"Ask Steve."

"I don't want to ask Steve," Clint was honestly a little side tracked. _What the hell?_

"Hello? Hawkeye, girlfriend here, would like to be sexed up sometime soon. Could you please clear the fog and get to it?"

No matter what Agent Coulson or SHIELD's many officials may say, Clint Barton is _highly_ capable of following orders.

Darcy spread her thighs wider, gasping a bit when Clint leaned forward and pulled her tight down against his thighs. He wasn't hesitant about skipping shallow thrusts, instead he pushed himself up into her deep and slow. When she rocked down against him he finally pushed forward until he was seated fully inside her. They paused a moment, breathing heavy.

Darcy wrapped her arms around Clint obligingly when he leaned forward, an arm on either side of her face. They stayed still for a moment, kissing and enjoying the feeling of being joined like they were. _This_ was something familiar to them, something easy. Being together like this had always felt natural.

Eventually Darcy began to move, pushing down and helping to set a steady pace. It was like fire sometimes, every place they came together had a different sensation. Being surrounded by familiar scents and touches was golden to people who had lives like theirs. When your only feelings were about heat and skin it was easy to forget about the world that you belonged to.

"Clint, God yes, please, please," Darcy didn't much care was she was saying into Clint's neck, and he just thrust his head back, breathing harshly right into her ear. Darcy's body bowed right over.

The rhythm faltered and redoubled and Darcy was finding that she needed her hands clenched against the headboard to steady herself. She was gasping. Clint's hands were firmer on her, gripping her hips and hardly giving her a chance to move for herself.

Clint was muttering her name over and over again. When she felt heat pool in her stomach, and the muscles on her thighs begin to seize up she half sobbed and grappled to hold on to every part of Clint she could reach. When she came it felt like there were stars dancing behind her eyelids.

Clint wound a hand into her hair, brushing a thumb over her sweaty brow and soothing her. His pace slowed in speed only, each thrust of his still as intense as the last. He took each of Darcy's aftershocks as they came and when Darcy's nails dug into his shoulders he stilled inside her.

Darcy watched his eyes flutter close, his brow line furrowing. Inside she could feel the moment he spilled. It was intimate enough to wreck her, more so when he didn't let her go but instead let her weight down slowly to lie atop him in a jumble of limbs. Darcy looked back but couldn't tell if Clint had hurt his leg more or not.

"See," Darcy said when she'd regained her breath "I totes rocked your world."

"Sure thing, sweetheart."

Darcy tried scowling but didn't have the energy for it. She wrinkled her nose instead "Take a shower already will you?"

Clint chuckled and sucked a bruise into her neck instead.

X-_X-_X

Darcy could safely say she appreciated her job even if she didn't always like it. There was just something about being able to say (if only to yourself) that you work in a place that requires a certain security clearance just for the bathrooms.

She was pretty much a glorified gofer, but when they saw how she wrangled Dr. Jane Foster they offered her salary and a health and dental plan. She was sold quicker than an auction bid. It hadn't hurt that working at SHIELD meant you knew some of the conspiracy theories and got to see really hot people all the time.

The morning had been fantastic, but work was turning out to be a drag. When Agent Coulson was out of the office her workload was reduced to about zilch. She normally ended up sitting on Jane's desk four floors down in Jane's research lab while eating Cheetos. Sometimes it was win-win.

So, Darcy stuck to her usual plan and hit up the vending machine (What vending machine requires biometric scans…? Darcy couldn't figure it out) and made her way to Jane.

Jane was playing with a shiny new toy that Tony had developed. Darcy couldn't understand much of what it was supposed to do but she got the general idea that SHIELD was commissioning Jane to make new atoms and call it magic.

Sounded sort of Disney to Darcy.

"Hey," Jane said when she resurfaced enough to notice Darcy parking her derriere on her desk. "Where are the Cheetos?"

"Out of stock," Darcy mourned, sighing and looking at the bag in her hand "I figure the Doritos will still count because it ends in a '-tos'."

Jane nodded like she thought Darcy made sense. Darcy figured this was probably a practiced move since what they said to each other the other person normally couldn't understand sixty percent of the time. Jane also had a hickey the size of Texas on her neck. Darcy was willing to bet all of Stark Tower that Jane hadn't noticed it yet today.

Darcy shrugged to herself and figured this meant that a certain Asgardian was learning the proper watering and feeding methods of one Dr. Jane Foster. She felt that this should reflect that she had taught the demi-god well.

"So, did Thor tell you what this operation is about today?" Darcy asked. She wasn't dying to know too badly. If it was interesting Clint would tell her the cool bits, and if it was boring they'd make out. So, really, it was all 'meh' as far as Darcy was concerned.

"Something Tony's trying to implement apparently," Jane replied. Her fingers were already straying towards microscope samples.

Darcy nodded. "No wonder it's quiet around here today."

"How's Clint's leg doing?"

"Not slowing him down," Darcy rolled her eyes "He either uses it to whine like a baby or he does something Evel Knievel style to be all smug about how little it affects him. I told him he was an oxymoron, emphasis on the moron."

"You were pretty shaken up when he got taken to the infirmary, huh?"

Darcy shrugs, trying to subvert the topic. She finishes her Doritos and tosses the bag into the mess of post-its behind Jane's desk. "He was unconscious."

Jane's lips thinned like she thought Darcy was lying. Which, to be fair, Darcy sort of was. Clint had looked _pulverized_ and Darcy had freaking lost it when he'd been brought in, and she hadn't been allowed further than the waiting room. Banner had apologized to Clint and to Darcy. Darcy had felt embarrassed to be apologized to and Clint had laughed back at Bruce and clapped the other guy on the shoulder.

"I know I worry every time they go out," Jane starts to say "Even though I know Thor is a god and all…"

Darcy hops off the desk and rubs her nose "Well Clint and I aren't like you and Thor are we? You guys are going to make beautiful babies and ride into the sunset and shizz."

"And you and Clint aren't?"

"I don't ride horses Jane, sorry, but they are like freaky—."

"You know that's not what I mean, Darce."

Darcy finally looks at Jane and feels bad when she sees how concerned her friend is. The thing is, while she and Clint have been together for a long time now they've never done the planning a future thing. They've always treated their relationship like it might suddenly end one day, unexpectedly. Darcy knows Clint does it because he's worried about not coming back one day. Darcy does it because she's just…worried.

So instead of a proper answer Darcy just shrugs again. "I should probably see if the boss man's tried calling. Remember to eat a protein or two."

Darcy frowns when she rides back up to her floor of the building. Her awesome morning seemed farther and farther away now.

X-_X-_X

A few weeks later Darcy and Clint were sitting in medical while he got his leg checked on.

Clint had tried everything possible to avoid the appointment, and Darcy had insisted on going in case they took the cast off and she missed a perfect opportunity to make fun of Clint in an awkward situation.

Darcy's day was made awesome by the fact that the doctor had insisted that Clint change into a hospital gown for the exam.

"Why is this medically necessary," Clint had asked with a pinched look on his face.

"Because I said so," the doctor had replied. Darcy had leaned forward slowly until the doctor was close enough to fist bump. She smirked when she realized that the hospital staff all gave the grief that Clint gave them back to him in turn.

Halfway through the exam the doctor excused herself to go fetch the x-rays, and to assist another doctor for a moment.

"You didn't have to come," Clint said, not unkindly.

Darcy shrugged. "Had nothing better to do."

Clint paused itching at the top of his cast "Didn't Coulson have you organizing the World Security Council briefs?"

"So?" Darcy blinked at him.

"Unbelievable," Clint muttered, sounding fondly exasperated. He sighed and leaned back on the examination table, kicking his good leg good naturally against it a few times. "Sometimes I wonder if there's anything that can grab your attention for long."

Darcy's automatic quip of 'You think I have ADD, Barton?' remains unsaid because even though Darcy knows that Clint means his statement as a joke his tone says otherwise.

"What do you mean?" Darcy says instead.

"Nothing," Clint says, looking immediately uncomfortable "Just joking around, babe."

Darcy doubts it, but doesn't know how to respond to it. People that preach that communication is the key to any relationship should wake up and smell the roses. Communication in a relationship was awkward at best, and while Darcy could be bold, glib, and abrupt in turn, she couldn't handle awkward very well.

"I have interests in lots of things," Darcy says, the back of her neck feels cold and clammy with sweat. She thinks Clint was talking about their relationship. In fact, she knows he was and doesn't need the teenage drama of Gossip Girl to tell her different.

Clint raises an eyebrow at her. But the way his eyes slide away from her tells Darcy that this was a conversation he may have been trying to avoid.

"I'm interested in cat memes, and sushi," Darcy says, and she honestly can't figure out why she's trying for an example "And I have a very long, loving interest with figuring out what's in the locked drawer of the boss man's desk."

Clint forms a response and a grin so fast that it can't be anything but fake. "The locked drawer of Coulson's desk has the easy button from the Staple's commercials."

Darcy tries a different approach, one that won't involve word vomit this time, she hopes.

"Thor and Jane seem easy."

She lets the comment hang in the air, and holds Clint's gaze. He's sitting straight up now and is looking as visibly uncomfortable as Darcy feels. They've never had a more in depth relationship conversation than what could be accomplished during post-coital cuddling.

"Are you saying we seem hard?" Clint asks finally, voice low.

"No," Darcy rubs at her forehead because she doesn't know how to say what she means at all. The crux of every rom-com in existence: the transformation of feelings into words.

When Darcy doesn't immediately explain what she means Clint's face goes smooth and impassive. It's what Darcy's always afraid of. Clint distancing himself. Darcy worries that, with Clint's track record, that distance could all of a sudden be permanent one day without her realizing it.

The doctor comes back in, and sticks the x-rays up on the viewing panel without even a how-dee-doo-dee. Darcy clams up and picks at her fingernails for the rest of the visit. When Clint has put his clothes back on they leave and he makes himself scarce and heads for the range. Darcy walks back up to Coulson's office, alone.

That night when they have dinner back at Stark Tower together Clint goes out of his way to be more involved than normal and Darcy makes more jokes about his hospital gown then are tasteful. They ignore what happened earlier.

X-_X-_X

Darcy lies in bed next to a fitfully sleeping Clint and thinks about the memory of when he was injured.

_Darcy's playing _Avenger's Alliance_ on facebook when the call comes in. The call comes to Jane, which doesn't bother Darcy at that point because she knows that Jane's a whole lot more important to SHIELD than she herself is. She figures it's because of the Ph.D. and the healthy dose of crazy._

_Jane swings around and gapes at Darcy, and that's what makes Darcy realize it's not just a 'Thor will be home soon, ma'am' call._

_Darcy sits her computer on the couch next to her and leans forward "Jane—Jane what is it?"_

_The phone thumps against the ground. "Darcy," Jane begins, her own eyes welling with tears, which makes Darcy about stroke out with anxiety "I'm so sorry."_

Those words are universal. "I'm sorry." They're words that only mean a few things in this situation, and Darcy figures she knows what it means.

_When you get the news that someone you love has died it's not a life flashing before your eyes type deal. Darcy feels shock, uncertainty, and anger. She feels that she's crying but she can't make her ears work properly to hear it, and she can't feel the emotion behind it properly either._

_She doesn't know how she's supposed to act._

"_It's Clint," Jane says, as if Darcy hadn't realized that, as if Darcy's reality wasn't suffocating her with that fact just now "They're bringing him back as quick as they can, taking him to the infirmary, they're prepping an OR."_

_And Darcy thinks—"What?" she says "He's not dead?"_

"_No, Darcy _no_." Jane's hugging her, wrapping her petite frame around the other girl like the world can be conquered with a hug._

"_We can go, right? I mean, I want to see him now."_

_So they go to the medical bay. They rush there. Clint comes in and behind him is a smattering of other Avengers. Tony's unconscious too, but Captain America is shouting orders to the medical staff about Clint only. Tony's fine. Clint's unconscious and barely breathing. Dr. Banner is nowhere to be found._

_Darcy doesn't get in the medical staff's way. She and Jane and the other Avengers are relegated to a waiting room. The Avengers mostly disperse, Thor eventually brings Jane back to Avengers' tower, and Darcy and Cap are the only ones left back._

_Jane looked at Darcy with sympathy on her way out, but Darcy can see that she's glad it wasn't Thor hurt, that her Asgardian warrior is untouched. She's relieved, and Darcy can't blame her. If it was someone else in the OR and Clint was safe then Darcy'd be pretty damned relieved too._

_Darcy puts her earbuds in, turns her iPod on, and refuses to open her eyes to return Cap's worried looks._

_Hours later a doctor comes out. He invites Cap to approach him so that he can explain Clint's situation. He pauses when Darcy approaches too, but doesn't immediately say something._

"_Mild concussion," the doctor is listing "But the damage he suffered from having Mr. Stark dropped on him isn't as bad as it looked. His leg was broken in several places and will need extensive attention but besides that his ribs will be sore, and there'll be some bruises, but he'll be fine."_

_Afterwards Cap gets to go in and see Clint, unconscious as he still is._

_Darcy doesn't. The doctor's hand on her arm stops her when she tries to follow Steve._

"_I'm sorry, but are you family?"_

_Darcy looks pointedly at Cap "Um, no."_

"_I'm sorry, you can't go in then."_

_The three of them stand there for a moment. Steve opens him mouth to argue on Darcy's behalf but she shrugs the doctor's hand off her shoulder and tells Steve not to worry about it. She flips the hood of her sweatshirt up and jogs out of the infirmary and out of SHIELD headquarters._

_The next day she goes to see Clint during general visiting hours after he's been moved to recovery, and is there when he wakes up. She can't help but feel that it means something that they wouldn't let her in to the trauma room._

X-_X-_X

Roughly seventy two hours after Clint's awkward doctor appointment she goes to find him in the range after work.

There's an active archery based area cordoned off past the handgun area, and Clint's the only one that uses it. Darcy figured he'd be there, after the rough couple of days they've had it's only natural that Clint's version of passive aggressive leads him there.

There's no way that he doesn't notice her approaching, but he doesn't stop the rhythmic firing of his arrows, and only stops when the last four in his quiver have been shot at the animatronic targets.

When he turns to look at her it's clear he knows she'd not just there for a 'Hey, how the hell you been' and it's also clear that he's not going to be the one to talk first.

Darcy sighs. She wishes, occasionally, that there was theme music for this kind of thing. She hops up to sit on the arms table. An arrow uncomfortably prods into her hip.

"So," Darcy says. "I'm the first one to admit that I've never fit into the fairytale roles like people like Jane do."

The statement stumps Clint a bit, but he knows she's not done talking so he says, "I reckon you don't," and lets her continue.

"I'm also scared that you're maybe going to decide to hit the high road someday and forget that we have a relationship. In fact, if someone asked me if I thought that was a possibility I'd tell them I was certain."

Clint doesn't look as stricken as Darcy was afraid he was going to, which is good because she'd been afraid he was going to think she was calling him emotionless. Clint decides that dissembling his bow is a good idea, and he does so and then walks over to her.

"Darce, I'm not going to just up and leave you, I promise," Clint says. He scratches at his cheek with a finger "Besides, wouldn't take you much to convince Stark to find me for you."

Darcy's smile at his attempt at a joke is weak at best. "Yeah, well, a girl's got to have a stereotypical insecurity these days doesn't she?"

"What makes you think I'm going to rabbit away?"

Darcy sighs "I didn't say it made sense. But, we're not exactly an example of eternal devotion. I admit to being clueless at these things, and you do have a history that isn't too reassuring."

She can see Clint frown but she can't meet his eyes. She knows he understands what she means. Darcy had seen Clint burn through three or four girls herself before they'd even gotten together. Not to mention that Clint had dated actual superheros.

"You know we're different," Clint leans so that his arms are gripping the table on either side of Darcy "I can safely say that you're the only girl I've willingly watched reality TV for. I let you wake me up to go to dive diners for chocolate chip pancakes at three in the morning. I look forward to seeing you first thing after I wake up. I don't know how to make you understand that you don't need to be insecure about this. I'm not lying to you when I tell you I love you."

"I love you too," Darcy says because this isn't the time to not return the sentiment "And it's not your insecurity, so I don't think you can say how to get rid of it."

There's an almost tangible pause in the air before Clint speaks. "No," he says finally, firmly "My insecurity is that I can't stop thinking that you're going to get bored at some point and decide that this isn't working for you anymore."

Darcy's startled, but it makes sense to her considering what he had started to talk about at his doctor's appointment a few days earlier. She can hear gun shots from the people practicing on the other side of the range. No one's close enough to hear them though.

"I'm sort of, kind of ridiculously infatuated as well as in love with you," Darcy says slowly "Which makes me the fourteen year old girl in this scenario, probably the reason why I don't mention the fact more often."

Clint shakes his head. "You see what I mean? I think about the fact that I'm a decade and a half older than you all the time. I wonder when you might decide that this isn't enough for you and begin to think that maybe this was all just a distraction. But I _know_ that there's more to you and me than just that."

Darcy takes a deep breath and makes herself meet Clint's eye contact. "So what you're saying is I'm overreacting from the hospital incident."

"The hospital incident."

Darcy fidgets. "They wouldn't let me see you when you were hurt. You know, with your leg and Tony ending up passed out on you like a four in the morning call girl."

"Is that all this is, babe?" Clint runs a hand up Darcy's arm "I can have it added to my file, Coulson'll love the paperwork. They'll let you in next time, I promise."

"I'm going to sound like the fourteen year old girl again, for which I apologize," Darcy prefaces her statement "But it was really more like the medical bozos made me feel like they already knew we didn't matter or something."

"We matter," Clint puts his forehead against Darcy's and breaths out. "We matter. I promise we matter."

Darcy loops her hands around Clint's waist and he presses closer until they're clutched together, tight. She breaths in and out a few times and refuses to feel embarrassed over this whole debacle. She'll have some Cheetos later, laugh at herself, and put on the least sappy action movie she can find.

"Promise you won't ever leave?" Darcy mutters into Clint's somewhat sweaty gear. She feels stupid asking it, but she knows it'll make her feel better.

"I promise if you do," Clint whispers back against her neck. His barely there stubble tickles her.

"Deal," Darcy sighs and sits back. Her street cred is ruined for all eternity, she knows it. She's going to have to tag-team a few of the junior agents with Clint in order to get it back.

She leans up and kisses him, making sure to make the loudest smacking noise possible. "You know what this means?"

"What?" Clint asks. He's fond, and his smile is wide. He's curling a piece of Darcy's hair around a finger and Darcy realizes that she feels like she's the center of his universe just then.

Darcy smiles and says "Dude, let's grow old together."


End file.
